


World's End

by Toricchi



Category: Dragon Kishi-dan (Dragon Knights)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-04
Updated: 2007-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toricchi/pseuds/Toricchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It really was all his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World's End

**Author's Note:**

> Sex, apocalypta and masochism all wrapped up in a flowery package. Some spoilers for early volumes if you don't know about Salazar.

The nurse wanted him to stay in the infirmary overnight but he couldn't, not when they were stripping the bed in front of him, rolling up a bundle of bloody sheets destined for the incinerator. She looked worried and so did everyone else, but it wasn't like he was going to throw himself out the window if someone didn't watch him, no matter how much they wanted him under observation. Lykouleon was slowly turning grey from sorrow and exhaustion but his night was far from over. Someone had to talk to her family, so before everyone left the room he drew Alfeegi aside for a few moments. Alfeegi nodded his head and looked concerned and sure enough, after everybody else had left he stayed behind.

"I'm _fine_, Alfeegi. I don't need a babysitter," he said but Alfeegi carried on like he always did, ignoring Ruwalk's objections and taking his arm. He'd have protested that as well –he wasn't not injured. Not physically, anyway- but when he'd tried to get up before his legs had almost collapsed under him. So he let him guide him down the hallways to his room, because it was Alfeegi and it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter anyway. Hell, he probably needed Alfeegi's help. He'd only received a few scratches when she'd flailed insanely at his face and they barely even stung anymore but his feet felt like lead and Alfeegi ended up supporting most of his weight. Alfeegi didn't complain, and that made it all the worse. Alfeegi should have been ripping his head off right now, shouting at him for endangering himself, the castle – and her. He should be demanding to know what Ruwalk was thinking, asking that last question when she was obviously sick and exhausted, and reminding him he had no right to be feeling sorry for himself when he was still alive.

Alfeegi didn't say any of it. Neither of them spoke, and by the time they made it to his room, Alfeegi was nearly carrying him.

Alfeegi helped him sit on the bed, rotating his shoulders with a wince. "You're heavy. How can you be so skinny and weigh so much?" he grumbled, but there was no heat in it. He was just looking for something to say to keep it normal. If Alfeegi was worried about that, then things are – Well, things really couldn't get any worse than they were now. He probably looked terrible, so he tried to find a smile, a joke, _something_ somewhere but there was nothing but overwhelming grief and sadness threatening to crush him like a boulder, and a hundred other things he really didn't feel like unpacking at the moment.

"It's okay, you can go now, Alfeegi. Thanks," he said, and Alfeegi just snorted.

"I know you too well for that, Ruwalk," he said and before he could ask what that meant, Alfeegi was sending him off to the bathroom to wash. At least he'd thought of that. He'd probably have fallen into bed as he was, boots and all.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the washstand and he did look like shit. Nine hundred years had caught up with him in one night. He was pale and dirty and he stunk of blood and formaldehyde and death. Hospital smells. He dunked his face in the water to get rid of it but it still felt like it was clinging to him, as ridiculous as he knew that was. Short of running a full bath, there was no way of cleaning himself properly, and he really wasn't up to that at this hour.

So he went back into his room and Alfeegi fussed over the fact that he didn't wash behind his ears or whatever and started stripping him of his shirt. That was taking it a bit far; he was perfectly capable of undressing himself, but it turned out to be hard to coordinate his fingers when they were shaking so hard. For some reason he hadn't noticed the blood spatters on his shirt, when she'd started coughing and choking and he'd carried her panicking to the infirmary. Letting Alfeegi do it was easier than arguing with him, and it had been so long since anyone had really taken care of him like this, although he deserved it less than anyone else in the world at the moment.

"Don't think like that," Alfeegi said, all business as usual as he unbuttoned Ruwalk's shirt, like there was nothing out of the ordinary about this scene, like one of their friends hadn't just died in Ruwalk's arms, and it had been all his fault. How Alfeegi always managed to know what he was thinking was a mystery, but at least some of his usual snappishness had returned to his voice. The situation was already crazy enough; if Alfeegi tilted his world anymore he'd fall off it, which might be preferable at the moment. He scrubbed his eyes and blinked. He was not going to cry, damnit.

Alfeegi pulled his shirt off, wadded it in a ball and threw it in the bin. Maybe they could get the blood out of it, but he never wanted to see it again. He could buy another shirt.

"Like what?" he said, trying to keep things light, keep the waver out of his voice. Not like there was any hope of that. The walls felt like they were closing in. Once Alfeegi left, once the candle went out… he really didn't want to think about what might happen then.

"Like you're blaming yourself for what happened." Alfeegi sized him up, turned that penetrating gaze on him and as always he felt transparent, as if he could see through the layers of flesh and blood and bone to the true heart of him and find him lacking. "_I'm_ the only one who gets to blame you for anything."

That might even have been an attempt at humour from Alfeegi to cheer him up; he was never very good at dealing with displays of emotion. Alfeegi was trying to _comfort_ him, when he'd done something so terrible it should be the other way around, him apologizing and trying to comfort _them_. It was too much, too _wrong_: he was here, she wasn't, Alfeegi was looking at him with kindness in his eyes… and he dropped his head to his hands as waves of hysteria threatened to overwhelm him. He was either going to cry or throw up.

"I'm sorry," Alfeegi said awkwardly. "I'm going to miss her, too…"

In books people always grieved prettily, one tear tracking artistically down their faces, but this was primeval and messy, a massive, all-encompassing _sadness_ coming out of him in hacking sobs, like someone had a hook in his stomach and was ripping out everything that was ever good in him. "_Ruwalk_," Alfeegi said from somewhere beyond the rushing in his ears, and then he was gathering him clumsily into his arms. He didn't say anything. Alfeegi was many things but he wasn't a liar and he didn't bother with platitudes. Things weren't going to be okay; things were _never_ going to be okay. Salazar was gone and it _was_ his fault, as surely if he'd cut her throat out himself. He'd _known_ she was sick; why had he had to ask that last question, information wasn't worth a life…

Alfeegi's embrace softened around him and now he was holding him properly, gentling him in the strong curve of his arms, and he was warm, so warm; how strange, even after they'd said she was dead her skin was still warm, how long did it take for the body to lose heat? Was she going to be cold forever, wherever she was now?

"I should have," he said uselessly. He should have. He should have. "I could have done something…"

"Don't," Alfeegi said, just the slightest tremor in his voice, his hand in his hair now, stroking. Ruwalk wasn't the only one who'd lost a friend tonight, but he had always been too selfish, too concerned with himself, and now he'd _killed_ someone for it. It made it all the more bitter when Alfeegi said, "There's no point in torturing yourself. There wasn't anything you could have done."

Alfeegi was trying to soothe him, and it was more terrifying than facing down a horde of demons alone; it was the world ending here and now; it was—

Did he kiss Alfeegi, or did Alfeegi kiss him? He didn't know, but he was on him, breathing him like he was air and holding onto him like his life depended on it and god, tonight it _could_. Alfeegi was being so gentle with him, just a chaste brush of lips, almost brotherly but he didn't want his gentleness; he needed him to unleash his violence upon him, leave him ragged and torn, give him what he deserved for everything he'd done and hadn't done. He needed his _live_ness, the sheer uncontrollable force of Alfeegi that kept him going when everything else was falling apart. He needed…

"_Please_," he heard himself whispering, and Alfeegi laid him down on the bed, his skin so hot against Ruwalk's, his mouth on his jaw. The care he was taking with him was still frightening, so he clutched the back of Alfeegi's head and slid his tongue into his mouth, urging him on, manuvering until his body weight pressed him into the mattress. Softness would break him; he needed Alfeegi to strip him down, to bones, skin, whatever's left of this useless, empty body. He needed Alfeegi to fuck him and to do it _hard_, so he tasted the sourness of sweat as Alfeegi ripped him open, shredded him with nails and teeth and split him on his cock until there was nothing left to hurt or ache and maybe that would make it a little better.

Alfeegi met his despair with tenderness, softly kissing his mouth as he pushed into him, being so careful with him. It undid him, _unravelled_ him, broke him down into the sum of his parts, rended him to skin and clean white bone and fleshed him again, making him over in his arms. He couldn't seem to stop the strange, almost animalistic noises coming out of his throat, something huge building up in his chest and he tried to speak but Alfeegi laid his finger over his lips and then kissed him again. He never stopped as he fucked him, and Ruwalk tasted death, the bitterness of ash and blood and for one terrible second he was lost, falling into that yawning pit of blackness but Alfeegi found him and brought him through it, achingly new and tender, the beat of his heart an uncertain, unfamiliar throb in his chest as blood flew in his body again, burning through his veins until he was gasping, crying, coming in a rush a fire.

Alfeegi held him until he learned to breathe again, murmuring inaudibly into his ear as he gentled him through the aftershocks. He couldn't coordinate his tongue and words tumbled off it in foreign, incomprehensible syllables, but Alfeegi seemed to understand his need to communicate –he _always_ knew; how did he always know?- and knit his fingers through his and squeezed tightly. His body felt light, freed of some dark and heavy weight, like he might float off into some other world if Alfeegi didn't hold him down and kiss him again. Now he could concentrate on the small details, like the slight roughness of Alfeegi's calloused hands catching on his skin as he tucked them both into bed, the unexpected softness of Alfeegi's mouth. He leaned over and snuffed the candle, and with Alfeegi's warm body next to him, he drifted off to sleep, safe and warm, secure in the knowledge that someone thought his existence was worthwhile.


End file.
